


Enterprise Books (New and Used)

by Xyriath



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Background Jim Kirk/Leonard McCoy, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 01:42:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1710383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyriath/pseuds/Xyriath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a close friend recommends a local bookstore for class materials, Nyota finds more than she had bargained for in the form of one very unexpected Vulcan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Enterprise Books (New and Used)

Nyota pinched the bridge of her nose as she turned the keys in the ignition, muttering under her breath about retail chains as she eased her car out of the parking space.  Nearly an hour of talking circles with employees and even management and she was still no closer to securing a consistent, reliable, and affordable supply of books for her classes.

She hated bookstores.

With a sigh, she pulled her Jeep Wrangler out onto the road, and her scowl deepened when she was immediately slowed by a yellow light that was just too far away to run.  Her phone chirped as she braked, and she picked it up as soon as the car was still.  The name on the text read “Jim.”  Her best friend had been the first person to whom she had texted her frustration, since she knew that as a literature professor, he had it just as bad as her.

_Hey, try this place._

An address followed.  It wasn’t even ten minutes away.

Might as well.

 

She never would have seen the bookstore if she hadn’t been looking for it.  “Enterprise Books (New and Used)” was a bit of an odd name, anyway, but Jim had recommended it, so she stifled her hesitation and pulled into the parking spot.

While the outside wasn’t especially impressive, the inside left her pleasantly surprised.  Someone who had clearly loved old books had designed the place, with its old-fashioned bookcases and wooden paneling that was a romantic throwback to the kind of nostalgia only found in classic libraries.

And the book smell was absolutely wonderful.

She reached out to brush her fingers along the spines of the occupants of a nearby bookshelf, recognizing a couple of titles from a class on the Romantics Jim had taught last semester.  She heard someone clear his throat behind her and turned.

She couldn’t keep her eyebrows from raising in surprise as she took in the man who stood behind the desk.  His understated clothing wasn’t unusual, and nor was the black bowl-cut that looked a bit fussy but oddly charming.  His pointed ears and pale skin faintly tinged with green, however, most certainly registered on the unusual scale.

Nyota had very rarely seen Vulcans outside academic settings.  While she had studied both the language and the culture in-depth and had her certifications in the fields, they were still rare enough that the average person didn’t generally run into one on the street.

Or in bookstores, as it were.

“May I help you, ma’am?”

“Actually, I think you might be able to.  May I speak to a manager?”

“I am the owner.”  His expression remained neutral, and if he was annoyed at the implication that she might not think he could do the job properly, he didn’t show it.

“All right, that’s wonderful.”  She tried to keep her tone light, especially after the employee at the last store.  “I’m Doctor Nyota Uhura.  I’m a professor at the university, and I was hoping to find a local place that can reliably provide my students with the books they need for the class, and at an affordable price.  The place down the street tried to gouge me, and I don’t take well to being insulted.  It would mean a lot of business for you,” she added.

“Do you have a list of the books you need?”

She reached into the inner pocket of her leather jacket and pulled out the folded list, handing it over wordlessly.

He scanned the list, impassive.  After a few moments, he looked up.

“This is a rather unusual selection.”

“It’s on Swahili language and culture.  A rather unusual course.”

He was silent for a moment, then nodded.  “I will definitely be able to accomplish what you need.  By when do you need them?”

Nyota closed her eyes for a moment in relief and offered a silent thank you to Jim.  “Class starts in two weeks.  Everything but the top three is later reading, though.”

“Then I will be sure to have them in stock by then.”

Nyota just sighed, a grin stretching across her face.  “Thank you.”

—

Spock and his employees had been fielding a brisk and steady stream of customers for weeks with the start of the semester when Doctor Uhura returned.  Though Hikaru had started towards her eagerly, Spock had concluded that she was here to discuss her previous visit     and sent him to shelve a stack of new arrivals instead.  Hikaru’s disappointment was puzzling, but Spock pushed it out of his mind as he approached her.

“Doctor Uhura.  May I be of any assistance today?”

She lifted her head and looked over at him, a smile pulling at her lips.  “Nice to see you again—I didn’t catch your name last time, actually.”

“Spock.”

“Spock, then.  Thank you.”  Her smile widened.  “A dozen of my students have come to me desperately grateful that you managed to find them.  Especially the ones who put off book searching until the last minute.”  Her lips twisted wryly, and he caught himself a bit distracted by how expressive they were.

“I believe I have met some of them.  They seem like exemplary students.”

She was smiling again.  “They are.  It’s a good class.  Definitely not my intro to Spanish.”  She laughed at that, and he found it oddly distracting.

“You teach Spanish as well as Swahili?”

“Yes.  My doctorate is actually in xenolinguistics, and I’m fluent in several Terran languages as well.  I’m… something of a new hire.  They’re expanding next semester, into Vulcan and even Klingon, but for now, I’m teaching the basics.”

“I was not aware that Swahili was a ‘basic,’ as you say.”

She snorted softly.  “No, that was my choice.  I’m from Kenya, originally, and I was able to talk enough of the advanced students into asking that I got the class pushed through.”  She looked rather pleased with herself about that.  “No telling if it’ll become a permanent offering, but I’m hoping.”

“Fascinating,” he murmured idly when she had finished.  She shot him a look that seemed to be indicative of slight puzzlement, but he wasn’t sure why.  In his years living on the planet, however, he had learned that these things rarely had a logical explanation.

—

The next free weekend Nyota had, she found herself at Enterprise Books (New and Used), perusing the shelves.

She wasn’t sure what had drawn her there.  Perhaps the selection—it was obvious that Spock had put care into making it as accessible as a larger chain, and the used books were a treasure trove on top of that.  Perhaps the comforting atmosphere, made even better with the discovery of armchairs tucked into a couple corners of the store where she could sit and relax for a couple of hours.

Perhaps a certain stuffy, if charmingly awkward Vulcan.

Or rather, half-Vulcan, as she learned that day, soon after Spock approached her to ask if he could help.  She wondered if he had some kind of radar; this was the third time in three visits he had approached her and offered his assistance within a minute of her arrival.

Not that she minded.

“I’m just browsing,” she said with a smile, taking the moment to study his face.  He was younger than she had originally thought.  The Vulcan demeanor aged him, she decided.  “I thought I might come and sit and read for a little bit.”

“Understood.  Please let me know if you need help finding anything.”

She nodded, then tilted her head.  “Spock?  Do you mind if I ask a question?”

“Another one, I presume.  No, I do not.”

Had that been a joke?  She tried not to smile.  “You don’t have to answer, of course.  I was just wondering, well.”  She couldn’t help but flush slightly in embarrassment, wondering if her question was rude, but she really was curious.  “You don’t often see Vulcans running bookstores on Earth.  Is there a story behind that, or you’re just an enterprising bookseller?”

Spock shifted.  For a moment she thought she saw a flash of discomfort, but that couldn’t be possible.  “The store was my mother’s.”

“Your—mother’s?”

He nodded.  “My father was an ambassador to Earth.  He met my mother and married her, and they returned to Vulcan four years ago.  As I wished to remain, it was logical for me to see to the caretaking of the store.”

“Well that was nice of you.”

His brow furrowed, and she probably shouldn’t have found it so charming that he had missed the teasing.  “As I said, it was the logical option.”

“I’ll bet.  So…”  She hesitated.  “Your mother was a human, then?”

“Correct.”

She thought she had hidden her surprise well, but she could see the question in his eyes.

“Is something wrong?”

“Not at all.”  She watched him for a moment, then shook her head, pressing her lips together to keep from smiling.  “Just…  fascinating.”

She was getting better at reading his Vulcan demeanor, she realized when she caught the subtle shift of his expression.   _That_ he had picked up on.

—

Spock looked up when Doctor Uhura— _Nyota_ , he mentally corrected himself, as last meeting she had been insistent that he use her first name—entered the store, and he had to suppress the worryingly sudden impulse to leave the large stack of poetry for Hikaru to document and catalogue.  While the man’s Vulcan wasn’t completely incomprehensible, it wasn’t nearly satisfactory enough for Spock to leave him in charge of the task.  Upon seeing him, however, Nyota started towards him, leaving his concerns unfounded.

For a moment he was rather pleased at the thought, but he quickly shoved it away with a dismissal of it being illogical.  He attempted to continue, but realized that he didn’t have the time to complete another book before she would reach him.  He closed it and set it aside as she stepped up in front of the counter, and he was about to greet her when her eyes fell onto the book and lit up.

“Oh my gosh.  Is that what I think it is?”  She reached behind the counter to pluck the book from its stack.  While the action startled him, he couldn’t bring himself to scold her.  In fact, he found it charming, in a way, which startled him slightly.

“Not many of your kind read Vulcan classics.”

“Not many of my kind speak the Vulcan language.”  She opened the book carefully—respectfully—and he watched her eyes, large and dark and expressive, flick across the pages as she deciphered the writing.

“I have more,” he said rather quickly—more quickly than he would have liked—and turned to retrieve the stack he had just finished cataloguing and pricing.  “You might find one that catches your interest.”

She began to peruse them, and Spock could tell that he was barely registering in her consciousness.  She chewed the inside of her lip thoughtfully, traits typically associated with indecision and anxiety flickering across her face.  He was fairly certain he understood the reason for the sentiment: the books were expensive, and she would likely need to limit herself to only one.

It was several long minutes before she took a deep breath, selecting two from the stack.  “I’ll take these, I think.”

The first was a logical choice, a rare copy of a classic gifted author.  The second…

“I would advise against that copy.  I am not sure how familiar you are with his work, but I find it to be rather rudimentary and have a poor understanding of the concepts and technicalities of rhythmic verse.”

Her face shifted into a neutral expression, and while it would not have been out of place on a Vulcan, Spock’s understanding was such that on a human, after periods of animation, it generally meant that something was being concealed, and that it was not typically a positive thing.

“I’m aware of his style.  In fact, his work is some of my favorite,” she replied coolly.  

Spock stared for a moment, tongue unable to form a reply.  He was unsure where the faint feeling of unease pooling in the pit of his stomach had come from, and dismissed it immediately.  It was simply poetry.

“I see.”

“I’ll take these two.”  Her reply was brusque, and she set them on the counter expectantly.  He did not converse further as he rung up the two books, but his fingers hesitated as he debated internally.  After a moment, he keyed in a twenty-five percent discount for the two books.

She looked up sharply at him when he gave her the price, but she paid without comment.  Before heading back further into the store, however, she paused, shooting a wry comment back in his direction.

“It’s free verse, Spock.”

Spock did not see her again that day before she left.

—

Nyota made her next visit, nearly like clockwork, after several more days.  The store was quickly becoming one of her favorite haunts, a nice place to grade homework away from the university and enjoy some coffee from a thermos.  (Technically the place had a no food or beverages policy, but Spock had made it clear to the other employees that she was responsible enough to be exempt, as long as she kept it discreet.)

And it had surprised her to realize that she enjoyed seeing Spock as well, though she couldn’t quite place a finger on what it was that endeared her to him so much.  There was a calm maturity there that was attractive, and it wasn’t the sort of thing you found in men around her age.  Jim was a prime example of this, of course, and even Leonard, who was one of the most levelheaded people Nyota knew, still got into occasional childlike squabbles with him.  They made a good couple to an observer and she was sure they were happy together, but it certainly wasn’t something she wanted to deal with.  So there was a certain appeal to Vulcans—or half-Vulcans—she supposed.

And it certainly helped that he was strikingly good-looking.

When she walked in, however, he practically accosted her.  Not that she wasn’t pleased to see him, of course, but it was very definitely… un Vulcan-like.

“Doctor Uhura,” he began, but she interrupted, a smile tugging at her lips.

“I told you you can call me Nyota.”

He tilted his head, as if he didn’t quite understand the words—or the sentiment behind them—but then nodded.  “Nyota.  I wanted to apologize for my behavior last week.  It was rude and uncalled for, and while I did not mean to offend, I now realize—”

“Spock,” she cut off with a laugh.  Had she really come across as angry?  A bit annoyed, maybe, and exasperated, but nothing an eyeroll hadn’t gotten out of her system.  “It’s okay.  I’m not upset.  Besides, you gave me a quarter off of those books.”

“Oh.”  He was silent for a moment, then cleared his throat.  “It appears I was mistaken, then.  My apologies.”

She smirked.  “No need to apologize.  Plenty of people don’t have good taste in poetry.”

He straightened for a moment, body language if not his face signaling that he was preparing to be affronted, but after a moment, he relaxed slightly.  Had she conditioned a Vulcan into taking a joke?

She resisted the urge to reach out and brush his bangs slightly to the side, though she did wonder how he’d look with his hair slightly mussed.

“Then I am glad we have cleared up that matter.  Is there something else I can help you with?”

“Mm, just the usual.  Here to browse.”

He nodded, but then hesitated again.  “I am curious.  May I ask why you have returned in such a short timespan, then?  As it is highly unlikely that we have received many new books in your absence.  I can, in fact, confirm that this is the case.”

She hesitated as well.  The _downside_ of his being a Vulcan was that he was very difficult to read.  He had noticed that she came often, yes, but she wasn’t sure if he was trying to imply that it was disrupting or if it was something he enjoyed.

“It’s nice here.  Relaxing.  A good place to take a break from my classes.  Good company,” she added, meeting his eyes with a faint smile.  “Though you might find such a reason illogical.”

He was silent for a moment, but then inclined his head.  “I believe I do understand the sentiment.”

“Good!” she replied brightly.  “As long as I’m not bothering.”

“Never,” he interjected, a bit quickly.  She couldn’t help but smile wider.

“Good to know.  I’m going to look for a couple things, maybe bother you in a bit.”

“Your presence in no way bothers me, Nyota, I can assure you.”

She chuckles.  “I was teasing, Spock.  And don’t worry.  I’ll be here next week, too.”

—

Spock set down the phone receiver, staring disapprovingly in its direction.

Nyota had just hung up.  She had called to informed him that she had gotten inundated in midterm grading and that she would be unable to visit that week.  She did, however, have a list of books she had been looking to read, and was wondering if Spock could see if he had them in stock, since she wanted something to read once midterms were over.  He had promised her that they would be in by the exact date she needed.

As he turned away from the phone, neatly-written list in hand, he found himself startled by how regretful the news of her impending absence was.  He realized that he did, in fact, quite look forward to her frequent visits.

He usually did not struggle with disappointment, but as he began to search the catalogue for the first book on the list, he realized that it was more of a problem than he could ever recall experiencing before.

—

She arrived at Enterprise Books (New and Used) on the exact date she had promised.

Spock wasn’t there.

True, she hadn’t checked the entire store, but when she was there for five minutes and Spock hadn’t yet shown, she couldn’t ignore her gut feeling.

It was proven correct when one of the other employees, Hikaru, sidled out from behind the counter and headed over.

“Hey, Nyota.  Spock isn’t here, but he mentioned you probably would be.”

She bit back a disappointed frown.  Hikaru was nice, at least, and he had stopped flirting after a visit or two and settled on just being friendly.  “Is everything all right?”

“Oh, yeah.  His mom and dad came into town on a surprise visit, so he took a couple of days off.  He almost didn’t.”  Hikaru eyed her consideringly.  “But they aren’t around often, and I think he might be kind of homesick sometimes.”

The knot of slight concern in her chest loosened.  “All right.  Well, that’s good to know.”

“Yeah, he left me with a stack of books and very thorough instructions.  And another one, for you.”

She followed him to the counter, where every single book she had requested was sitting in a neat pile, a note on top.  She plucked it off and unfolded it.

    _Nyota:_

_My deepest apologies for my absence.  I understand that you were going to come today, but familial circumstances have arisen that I cannot ignore._

_I do wish to say that I enjoy your company and your visits, and regret that I was unable to be present today.  I fully intend to be here your next visit._

_Please inform me if there is anything incorrect with your order.  I have instructed Hikaru thoroughly on what you need, but if anything is missing, I will do my best to remedy it expediently._

_With Sincerest Regards,  
Spock_

“He’s really stuffy, isn’t he?”

Nyota jerked her head up to raise her eyebrows at Hikaru, who was grinning.  After a moment of trying to look indignant on Spock’s behalf, she couldn’t help but smile back.

“A bit.  It’s cute.”

Hikaru just snorted.  “I guess you could do worse.”  He was still smirking.  “Well, good luck.  You’ll need it.”

“Thank you.  I think.”

Hikaru started towards the register, but then paused.  “Maybe not as much as you’d think, though.”

She didn’t ask precisely what he meant, but the words kept her smiling on her way home.

—

It was the seventh time he had looked up at the sound of the door opening that day, and his hopes of seeing Nyota were steadily decreasing.

He was trying not to be concerned that she would be upset with him for not being there when she had visited last, but it was a persistent, nagging worry that he could not dissuade.

When her familiar form walked through the door, however, and her face split into a grin, his breath caught slightly.

He told himself that it was relief that she was not angry.

“Hey.  Haven’t seen you for a while.”

He inclined his head.  “I am glad to see you again, Nyota.”

“Glad?”  She smirked.  “Is that allowed for a Vulcan?”

Over the past several weeks, he had gradually become accustomed to her teasing.  “Gladness is not, in fact, necessarily emotional, but an indication of reciprocation and therefore perfectly logical in any successful society, spacefaring or not.”

“Okay, Spock.  Whatever you say.  But tell me.”  She was smiling still, a mischievous note in it now.  “Reciprocation of what?”

Of all the replies he was expecting, that was certainly not it.  He determinedly ignored the flip in his stomach and glanced quickly to the side for a task, any task, and his eyes settled on a shelf that needed straightening.

“I simply meant…”  He swallowed as he attempted to come up with an explanation that was, indeed, simple, but words failed him.  “It is illogical for you to continue coming in so frequently, even if—”

“Spock.”  Her tone was warm, warmer than he would have expected, and a gentle touch on his shoulder turned him to face her.  She had a smile on her face, gentle and amused.  “I can think of one very logical reason that I keep coming in.”

“And what is that?”

Instead of answering verbally, she leaned in, lifting her chin and standing on her toes.  Spock found the latter incredibly endearing, and he couldn’t place why.  Not when he was watching her in surprise—and almost hopeful expectation.

She paused, and he knew she was giving him the opportunity to pull back.  When he didn’t, she placed a gentle, lingering kiss on his cheek.

He turned his head as she pulled back slightly, meeting her eyes.  The mix of hesitation and hope, more than anything else, caused him to act on impulse, leaning in again and pressing his lips gently to hers.

The kiss lasted only a few moments, but when he pulled back, Nyota was beaming.  Spock found himself nearly absurdly pleased with the sight.

“Spock?”

“I—yes?”

The glint of mischief had returned to her eyes.  “There’s one very, very logical thing that you should do now.”

He blinked, wondering precisely what logic had to do with this situation.  “What is that?”

She stood on her tiptoes again, a smirk on her face, leaning in to whisper in his ear.

“You should ask me out to dinner.”


End file.
